


A Thousand Words and a Tune

by IzzieGS



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, aaron has a camera problem, eric just wants to play music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzieGS/pseuds/IzzieGS
Summary: Aaron wants to capture the current world and Eric wants to retain some part of the previous one. They settle these problems in...interesting ways.





	A Thousand Words and a Tune

**Author's Note:**

> If you look at Aaron and Eric's house in the Alexandria tour, there a ton of cameras just...everywhere (19 last time I counted, but I may have missed some). Also, there's an accordion. (And clothes everywhere, but that's not in this story)
> 
> Glad to know both of these boys are gay disasters
> 
> Enjoy!

The two men skipped through the aisles of the antique shop like children in a candy store. They giggled like lovesick teenagers while making faces through warping vases and shoving tiny, carefully wrapped statues in their bags.

           

The trip beyond the walls had been uneventful, for the most part. The roads had been nearly empty—barely any dead, absolutely no survivors. On the way home, Eric caught the sun glinting off a metal music box in the window of the store.

           

“Do you think it still works?”

           

“I don’t know.” Aaron shrugged as they drew closer and the rust coating each gear came into sight. “But probably not.”

           

“What a shame.” Eric pushed gently on the front door, smiled when it drifted open easily under the pressure. “Wanna check it out?”

           

Aaron grabbed his backpack straps and bounced on his toes. “I really do.” One of his hands slid down to the knife on his hip. “But we have to be careful.”

           

“Of course.” The two nodded, then, with a last glance at the deserted lot behind them, entered the store together.

           

The building was surprisingly empty, and still tidy—left alone by scavengers searching for food or weapons. None of the dusty nick-nacks lining the knobby shelves were _necessary,_ which is why the couple were both so excited to fill their pockets with them. If they weren’t starving, they could grab twirling candlesticks instead of expired food. If they had a secure home to return to, they could own more than just what they could carry.

           

“It’s like Christmas shopping for ourselves!” Eric exclaimed as he placed another figurine on top of the growing pile in his bag.

           

“Yeah, without the money problems.”

           

“Even better.” Eric finally turned away from the objects in front of him to see Aaron grabbing what looked like his twentieth camera. “I know we could use some, but just how many pictures are you planning on taking? There’s only so much to see in town.”

           

Aaron glanced up from the big black mass in his hands. “Not…a ton? I just want to make sure we get one that works.” He flipped the camera towards Eric and clicked the button on top. Nothing happened. “See? This one doesn’t.”

           

“Okay, but there’s so much here and all you’ve gotten is—” Eric’s eyes settled on something leaning against the far wall. “Oh my God.”

           

Aaron was already tense, ready to fight for their lives, when he noticed the downright giddy look on Eric’s face. He followed Eric’s gaze and rubbed his temple when he saw the item that caught his partner’s attention. “No.”

           

It was too late. Eric was already running over and pulling the hefty object into his arms. “I need it.”

           

Aaron dropped his head into his hands. “You do not need that.”

           

Eric ran his fingers over aged keys and fabric folds. “I need it,” he repeated.

           

“What the hell are you ever going to do with an _accordion_?”

           

Eric unbuckled the thin leather strap holding the instrument shut. “Uh…play it?” He pulled the two ends apart and laughed when the air rushed into it with a wheeze.

           

“Where are you going to learn to play that?”

           

“I don’t know. Somewhere. I can teach myself.” Eric winced as the air screeched out again. “I just need some practice.”

           

“Definitely.” Aaron glanced at the thin glass wall, the stretch of cracked asphalt and overgrown weeds. “But maybe not here.”

           

Eric nodded. The shield of the yellowing window could only protect them from so much. Making a lot of noise still wasn’t a smart idea, even with the empty streets. He shut the accordion again with a simple button click. “Guess I have to take it home then.”

           

“Please don’t.”

           

“Too late. Already am.” Eric walked up and set the instrument on the counter closest to the front door.

           

Aaron shook his head. He’d give Eric a couple weeks to momentarily soothe the musician inside himself again.

* * *

A few months later, Aaron whistles as he returns home early. A clean blue mug rests next to a grey, oil-stained one on the workbench, but only Daryl sits in the garage. He opens his mouth to ask where Eric is, but he’s cut off by the unmistakable shrill of the accordion reverberating through the door.

           

“He’s been goin’ at it all day.”

           

Aaron walks into the house, bracing himself for the shriek of harsh wind once more. But when the music starts again, it isn’t terrible. It’s still the rough sound of reeds, still limited by somewhat hesitant notes, but it’s recognizably _music_ , and Aaron can pick out the familiar tune.

           

“Who’s birthday is it?” Aaron asks from the kitchen.

           

Eric jerks upright, almost sending the instrument to the ground. “Hi, hon. You’re home early.”

           

“Yeah. Restocking everything took a lot less time than we expected.” He steps into the living room with a suspicious gaze on Eric. “You didn’t answer my question.”

           

“Sorry. Didn’t catch it.”

           

“Is it someone’s birthday? Or is that just what you happen to be learning now?”

           

“No, it’s a birthday.” Eric smiles, looks for the tell-tale twinkle in Aaron’s eyes that shows he’s joking around, but he only meets genuine curiosity. “You really don’t know?”

           

“No.” Aaron is suddenly, briefly stiff as he looks over piles of leaves coating the roads outside. “It’s not yours; it’s autumn.” He turns back to Eric, who’s stifling a laugh behind one hand. “It’s not yours, right?”

           

A small giggle slips out and Eric shakes his head. “No, silly. It’s yours. Next week.”

           

“Oh,” Aaron sighs in relief, then returns the smile. “Good to know. Didn’t even think about myself there.” Aaron sets his hands on the accordion still curved over Eric’s lap. “I hadn’t realized you still play this thing.”

           

“I’ve been practicing while you’re gone.”

           

“Why didn’t you mention it?”

           

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

           

“I’m surprised you still play this thing.”

           

“Well, I need something to do. I told you I was going to teach myself; it’s as good a use of my time as any.”

           

“You’ve gotten pretty good.”

           

Eric shrugs. “I’ve gotten _decent_.”

           

“Practice makes perfect.”

           

“Sometimes.” Eric glances at the garage. “Other times it makes rough biker boys swear they’re staying outside until you shut up.”

           

“Well I like it.”

           

“Always glad to have your support, babe, but you don’t have to lie.”

           

“I’m not. I’m sure I’ve just got to get used to it.”

           

“I know it’s loud.” Eric chooses to ignore the teasing expression Aaron develops. “But at least it’s not bagpipes or something, right?”

           

“No violin?”

           

“Tell you what, you go to our apartment in the middle of the walker-packed city, grab my violin, and somehow manage to get back here alive, I’ll play that instead.”

           

“Alright. I’ll take that as a ‘no.’” Aaron sits down on the floor at Eric’s feet. “Play something for me?”

           

“What?”

           

“Come on, I want to see what you’ve got so far. Consider it an early birthday present.”

           

“Dork.”

           

“Please?”

           

“Fine.” Eric grasps the ends of the instrument in each hand, movements much more comfortable than the first time. “And here I was gonna try and get you another camera.” Aaron narrows his eyes, but still settles into a listening position. “Birthday concert it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> So my brief break from Every Kiss was just Aaron and Eric being dorks in love in other ways. I just really love them, okay?
> 
> Y'all can also find me at my Tumblr (another place for me to cry about Aaric): izziegs.tumblr.com
> 
> Hope y'all have a nice weekend! Let's take on this MSF together


End file.
